


If Forever Could Exist

by Azrah39



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Dean, Post-Season/Series 11, Sappy Dean, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azrah39/pseuds/Azrah39
Summary: After Chuck and Amara reconcile and depart, they gratefully grant Dean with the gift of his resurrected mother. They also bestow a second gift, and with Mary leaving him and Sam after the events of 12.03, Dean struggles with the possibility of Cas leaving him, too.A moment passes between Dean and Castiel that leads Dean toward hope, for once.





	If Forever Could Exist

_Chuck and Amara had reconciled, and the Darkness was grateful to Dean for showing her that revenge was not the solution she truly desired. She granted Dean something that he wanted most of all; she brought Mary back to life. Chuck, also, was pleased with the Winchester’s ability to save the day once again, and was thrilled to have reunited with his sister. Chuck opened Heaven back up, restoring it to its balance from before the events of the fall, back before, even, the apocalypse. He extended his holy reach, tendrils of Creation caressing the forms of all his angels, whose wings had been but scorched, broken remnants of their former glory. He healed them, and each and every angel let out a cry of pleasure, the keen, one-of-a-kind blissfulness of having something infinitely precious that was lost now returned, and Chuck smiled, his children’s glee overflowing his heart._

The months that followed were complicated, to be extraordinarily blunt. 

Dean had returned to the bunker with his mother in tow after finding her in the woods following Amara and Chuck’s return to _literally_ God-knows-where. The awkwardness, happiness, and every _-ness_ in between were almost too much for Dean. He took it one day at a time, one case at a time, one foot in front of the other, because that was how he knew how to go through his strange, convoluted life. They had found Sam, kidnapped and tortured by Lady Bevell, and had even embarked on a couple of routine hunts as a family.

Dean didn’t even have a chance to come to terms with his feelings before Mary confessed to him and Sam that she was having trouble adjusting, that she was still mourning the husband and children she remembered. Mary left, and Dean was left to reluctantly mull over recent events. Sam was neck-deep in the library, researching everything and anything regarding the British chapter of the Men of Letters, still feeling phantom pains in his feet and all across his body from where Toni Bevell had inflicted calculated wounds. 

Castiel had sat Dean down at the kitchen table the previous night when they both found themselves wandering in for a drink. Cas, with a steaming cup of joe in hand, and Dean with his tumbler of whiskey, had a moment of silent conversation through unsurprisingly long eye contact before Dean had set his glass down with a little too much force. The glass did not break, but their gazes did, and Dean sighed, long and pained. 

“Cas,” Dean began, “Something is up, I can see it, alright? Just spit it out, man. I can’t deal with much more of anything, right now.”

Cas was staring intently into the black abyss of his mug now, holding it close to his face. The steam hadn’t relented, and Dean thought for a small moment that the vision of Castiel’s face behind it made him seem appropriately ethereal. Dean blinked as Castiel began to speak.

“Bringing Mary back was not the only thing that happened when Chuck and Amara took their leave,” the angel sat his mug down now, without having taken a sip. “My wings are back. And I don’t believe that it is just me. Heaven is restored. I can feel it innately. It is…” Cas paused, glancing up at Dean as he spoke his next words, “…something I did not think that I would experience again.”

Something in his azure eyes seemed to cue Dean to the angel’s feelings on the matter. He tapped the fingers of his left hand restlessly on the table as his right hand gripped the glass of booze like a lifeline.

“That’s great, Cas.”

“You don’t seem pleased.”

The reply was immediate, and Dean blinked again as he processed it. He wasn’t pleased. Why, on Chuck’s fucked-up green earth, would he not be pleased about his best friend getting his wings back? Getting his home back?

“Cas,” Dean spit out before taking a long drink, emptying the tumbler. The burn helped grant him time before he said something irrational, like how come you’re so excited about the fact Heaven is accessible to you? How come you’re so fucking grateful that you can zap out of Dodge whenever? 

“Dean.”

Dean had heard enough. He stood abruptly, not bothering to deposit his empty glass in the sink, and strode with purpose out of the kitchen and toward his room. He did not look back and did not hear footsteps behind him. Though, Dean thought numbly, that didn’t really make much difference, did it?

And so tonight, Dean leaned back in a chair in the war room, sans glass of whiskey. This time, he was taking pulls straight from the bottle. Sam had moved his research into his bedroom, muttering something about his brother’s negative vibes impacting his concentration. Mary had left. Wouldn’t answer her phone. Sam was here, but what if he wasn’t? What if that crazy British bitch had decided to say fuck it, and dispose of him before Dean, Mary and Cas had arrived? These tenuous times when Dean seemed to have people by his side seemed so misleading. They’d leave. They’d all leave, someway. Some day.

“Dean?”

The hunter did not look up, instead staring broodily down, gaze falling on nothing but not without intense, ironic focus. 

Castiel entered his line of sight, pulling the chair across from him out and taking a seat. Dean saw the angel’s expression work, his eyes intent, his mouth opening slightly as he made to speak.

The hunter jumped the gun, wanting to speak first. “Will you go back? You have your wings. Heaven is restored.” Dean winced at the pain in his voice. It didn’t even come out as a question.

Cas tilted his head, eyes narrowing minutely, his gaze unrelenting until Dean’s eyes met his. 

“You don’t understand,” Cas said slowly, “I am glad that I have the ability to fly, again, Dean, but I would never leave you.”

Dean looked away, his empty hand curling into a tight fist. “That’s your home, Cas.”

“No.”

Again, the response was immediate, and the whiplash led Dean to glance back up at the angel. His expression was soft, almost pleading.

Castiel glanced down at the table, his eyes finding Dean’s clenched fist. Deliberately, he reached his own hand outward, cautiously covering Dean’s hand with his own. Dean did not flinch, did not even blink. There was a part of Dean that briefly, in the back of his mind, had firmly decided that if he made any sudden movements, he’d wake up as if from a dream, and he’d be alone. 

“I’d like to stay,” Cas muttered, “with you.”

A moment passed, and neither man said another word, moved another inch. Green met blue across the table, and somehow, an understanding was reached. Dean moved then, entranced. His right hand pushed the bottle further away, to the side. His clenched fist loosened, fingers curling slightly upward until his fingertips brushed against Cas’, and he slid his hand slowly, delicately, from underneath the angel’s. Dean never broke eye contact as he stood, and Cas moved to stand as well. Something shifted in the angel’s expression as he circled around the table, approaching Dean as one would approach a startled animal. Dean’s hand shot out, gripping Castiel’s upper arm with purpose, keeping them at arm’s length. Cas remained unfazed.

Dean’s lips trembled slightly before they formed words. “Take me back there.”

A sudden rush of wind and a change of the feeling underneath the soles of his boots, and a thought scattered across Dean’s mind in a rush of excitement and shock. He did not tell Castiel where he wished to go, but the angel brought him to that place, the place he occasionally dreamt about, the very place that crossed his mind every time he allowed himself to think about him and Cas, their friendship, the presence he was in his life, the importance he held. After days of delving begrudgingly deep into the emotions of his heart, he was met with relief that he could breathe again.

They were in front of a barn in Illinois. It was the place where he and Bobby had summoned the being who freed him from Hell all those years ago. It was where he and Cas first met. Dean glanced around, still a bit in shock, and Cas looked half pleased, half skeptical.

After a beat, a drop of cold water landed on Dean’s head. The hunter glanced skyward, and as if on cue, and as if a metaphor for his entire life, it began to rain, a sudden, relentless downpour. He turned his gaze to the angel, who was looking at the heavens, the rainwater soaking his dark hair already. Castiel returned his gaze to Dean. 

Dean felt himself smile as the rain cascaded down his cheeks, soaking through his jacket and shirtfront. Castiel returned his smile with a wry one of his own.

After everything that had happened, all the shit that Dean had seen and dealt with, all the trials and battles that he had gone through, all of the times he had fought with Sammy, the multitude of times the brothers had lied to one another, usually to keep each other safe. The countless times Castiel would go off, trying to right wrongs in the worst of ways, but always did the angel return. He had lost his brother and his angel so many times, so many heartbreakingly hopeless times. But here they were, his kid brother safe at home doing what he did best, and he and Cas, together, no monsters currently hunting them down, no lies separating them.

_Maybe this is forever,_ Dean mused, _if forever could exist._

**Author's Note:**

> This was roughly inspired by the infamous Delena scene "Promise me this is forever".  
> Plus, I enjoy exploring Dean's emotional side... :)


End file.
